Page:Merchant's son and the beggar wench.pdf/6

 ( 6 ) I prize ev’ry hour that went by, beyond all that pleas'd me before : But now they are paft, and I figh, and I grieve that I priz’d them no more.

But why do I languifh in vain ? why wander thus penfively here ? Oh ! why did I come from the plain! where I fed on the fmiles of my dear!

They tell me my favourite maid, the pride of the valley is flown; Alas! where with her I have ftray'd, I could wander with pleafure alone.

When forc'd the fair nymph to forego, what anguifh I felt at my heart; Yet I thought,—but it might not be fo, 'twas with pain that fhe faw me depart.

She gaz’d as I flowly withdrew, my path I could hardly difcern; So fweetly fhe bade me adieu: I thought that fhe bade me return.

The pilgrim that joutnies all day, to vifit feme far diftant fhrine; If he bears but a relique away, is happy, nor heard to repine.

Thus widly remov’d from the fair, where my vows, my devotion I owe, Soft hope is the rel que I bear, and my fobce wherever I go.